Shaggar turns his back on the dying spider and attacks the remaining skeletons.
Hatyah misses, but with Shaggar's brutal onslaught, both of the remaining warriors go down in a burst of dry brittle limbs and dust.
The room is very quiet, now.
The massive gnoll wipes the spatterings of spider ichor from his face and looks to the men taking care of the downed Rosalia. "Does she live?"
An excellent question...
Rook butts at her mistress's limp hand and meows in plaintive alarm. A cursory checking of Rosalia's pulse would reveal it still beats, fast and shallow as a songbird's-- but she doesn't stir, even when shaken.
It's a logical assumption that the poison from the spider-thing, which rendered her comatose in the first place, is probably still flooding her bloodstream.
In the sudden still and quiet, Javi looks helplessly at Rosalia's still body. Feeling the need to do something useful, he waits for anyone with more useful skills to work with the swords woman as he simply stands off to the side keeping watch. His small blade taps restlessly on his thigh.
Shaggar looks over the magus as carefully as he can given his huge size. "Poison is still in her. She needs something to neutralize it or a skilled physician to bring her out of this..." He struggles for the right word, "torpor."
Nothing seems to be stirring. Javi looks left to right, but the doors are still shut, the body in the hallway still emaciated and undisturbed, the remaining, unsmashed-skeletons still standing quiescently.
Javi does notice the aforementioned nice armor on the skeletons, and that the spider-thing has several small bundles of webbing stuck on the underside of what passed for its torso.
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Shaggar pulls an antitoxin from his bandolier and gives it to Heldar to administer, not trusting his still over-sized hands to the delicate task.
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As Heldar and company work on Rosalia, Javi takes a quiet, circuitous route through the room. As he passes the different inanimate warriors, he takes a sharp, close look at their rich-looking armor.
His meandering path finally takes him to the bulk of the giant spider-bits, specifically to the interesting-looking ... bundles. He steps in carefully, giving the bundles a close inspection and sniff to determine if they are trapped or poisoned in any manner.
Heldar hurriedly digs out his healer's kit and starts hunting for the place where the spider's mandibles had injected the poison-- the fangs torn through cloth just below the hem of her chain shirt. He swiftly pulls out little bundles of herbs, a small smooth stone, and a sharp-bladed knife-- nicking Rosalia's flesh where it's mottled from poison.
Fortunately, the applications of the various substances and the antitoxin remedy, in Heldar's skilled hands, prove very effective, and Heldar does not have to resort to such tactics as trying to suck poison from Rosalia's bloodstream.... which is probably for the best, for him, as it seems unlikely the Brevoy woman would quite understand why he was doing that when she woke up.
As it is, Rosalia stirs feebly then twitches awake, even while Javi is scavenging expertly. Javi finds that in one of the bundles of webbing (none of which appear trapped) there is a slim piece of wood carved with a number of pentagrams and other hellish-looking symbols; another webbing blob contains a tightly-rolled piece of parchment. Javi also notices that one of the thin feeler appendages of the twisted monstrosity has a shiny silver ring glittering on it, easily removable.
The armor of the skeletons, on close inspection, seems to be made of hundreds of tiny shells-- not seashells, but scarab shells-- drilled and strung together like overlapping scale mail. It gleams with an iridescent shine, and seems to be very well made. Rosalia had determined it was magical, before she got the stuffing eaten out of her by a spider. The suits of armor also do not seem trapped, although many of them look to be half-falling apart due to their sheer age, and possibly difficult to transport out of here intact.
Rook mews happily and headbutts his mistress. She lives!
Javi makes a completely weirded-out face as he pulls the ring from the thin spider-appendage. Then he scoops up the rest of the 'spider-bundle' items and brings them back to the group. He gives Rosalia's stirring form a quick grin, then a thumbs up to Heldar and Lyrian. "Nice! She gonna be okay?"
He lays out the items, before pointing out the suits of armor. "These could all be useful, though I have no idea what to expect from that armor. I'll leave that up to you magic-y folks." His small face scrunches up in thought. "So, was that crazy old man's old adventuring group Chelaxian? Or do we think all this stuff..." he points to all items bearing Chelaxian or Asmodean symbols or runes, "... is from some group more recent?"
He steps back, giving the magic-users room to work, then looks up at the still-doubly-towering gnoll. He quips in a series of barks, growls, and yips as he punches Shaggar lightly on the nearest furred body-part in reach ... Shaggar's mid-shin.
"Could those Chelaxians from the other pyramid have already been here?" asks Lyrian aloud. He then turns his hand to identifying magic items.
Then he casts read magic and identifies the various scrolls.
"I think not. They didn't have the mask."
Shaggar regards the (now) very tiny halfling, "Of course... and you'll only have to pay the child's fare."
Rosalia stirs and sits up, clutching at her head and groaning; Heldar offers her a little water from his waterskin, which she accepts with a woozy nod. "Owww... wha' happened?"
When the explanation of the spider hauling her around the room is given, Rosalia shudders. Then she looks... angry.
"My spells," she hisses. "That-- THING-- I can't remember some of the spells I studied last night!"
Rosalia looks as if she'd very much like to take her sword to the severed remains of the long-limbed horror, but she composes herself with her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Thank you for killing it. And getting that poison out of me. I owe you all one," she says grimly. She gets to her feet to help Lyrian identify the magical items, clearly chagrined by the fact that she did nothing in that combat. Rook nuzzles at her ankles until she scoops him up and pets him one-handed.
Lyrian is able to identify several of the items, though a few elude his scrutiny. Rosalia attempts to lend her own aid, but her head is still pounding from the lingering effects of the venom.
The ring remains unknown to either Lyrian or Rosalia.
The wand is a wand of infernal healing, with eight charges remaining and an activation phrase of 'Service to Thrune'.
The armor suits are.... a mystery, although Lyrian is fairly sure that the enchantment on them belongs to the abjuration school. Close inspection reveals that the scarab shells seem sewn onto an inner lining of silk. The scales are much lighter than a metal equivalent would be. The silk, sadly, has rotted through on many of the suits of armor. There are... ...suits of armor that could be removed from the skeletons and taken with you, if you desired. Each weighs only twenty pounds.
The potions are two potions of cure moderate wounds.
The scrolls are: a scroll of nap stack, a scroll of speak with dead, a scroll of remove blindness/deafness, and a scroll of obscuring mist (the last being the one the spider-thing had).
Additionally, the scroll case contains another piece of rolled-up parchment, brittle and crackling to the touch.
12 Sarenith, 4654
From your brothers and masters in service, in the name of the Prince of Law, to our loyal servant Marestrix Kail, greetings.
The Church dispatches you to assist in an expedition organized by one Imivus of House Leroung. This Imivus is a scholar of the new university in our glorious capital of Egorian, and has been granted worthy dispensation by our most noble ruler, Her Imperial Majesty Abrogail, to travel to the nation of Osirion and seek a great treasure of knowledge in its dunes. You are to travel with Imivus and provide the full support of the Church to the best of your abilities. If Imivus's theories are true, then that which is to be found will bring great glory to the cause of Cheliax and House Thrune, as we follow our Queen into the future that awaits those who understand the power of Hell.
Travel in all circles of the Law,
Darius Thorne
First Servant of the Great Prince
(The date of the letter is 56 years ago from your current year.)
"There is the answer then. This is what remains of Raegos' expedition. It seems we are the first in here in 50 odd years."
"Of course... and you'll only have to pay the child's fare."
"Oh, good," Javi quips, "Win-win."
"My spells," she hisses. "That-- THING-- I can't remember some of the spells I studied last night!"
Javi's eyebrows climb his forehead, "That's a thing?!" He looks over at the spider's corpse with a touch of grudging respect, "I'm gonna have to learn that trick."
As the group pulls up the old letter, Javi strains up onto his tip toes to read along. "Marestrix Kail. Imivus, The power of Hell. So ... the usual Cheliax stuff." He shrugs, "If nothing else, I'm pretty determined to do better than them in this place."
He looks down at the corpse on the ground, his lips turning in a half-smile, "Challenge accepted, pile of bones. Challenge accepted."
"So, where to next?" the thief says in his usual chipper tone. "Or do we need to hunker down and rest up a bit?"
"We haul the armor to the entrance and pile it there outside," says Lyrian. "Then we divide these treasures on a temporary basis. The clerical scrolls to Heldar and the arcane scrolls to Rosalia and me. Probably mostly her. Then I vote we rest a bit. I'm low on spells and so is Rosalia."
Shaggar growls, bothered by the letter. "So Imivus was a good Chelaxian and reported his discovery, then led an expedition here... But somehow the detail of the mask was lost or isn't widely known. That puts a new slant on the Chelaxian who wanted the mask stolen. Perhaps he can't enlist the aid of others without having to share the wealth."
Regarding the armor, Shaggar offers up the large bag he'd used to carry the team supplies. "I suggest we place the armor in here and leave it on this side of the pillars... in case some thieves show up."
"I was more concerned with us having to leave at high speed and being forced to leave it behind. Aren't we a little far out in the desert for random thieves to show up just when we're here?"
"Every treasure hunter in the region has been drawn to the four pyramids since they were unearthed. Unless that storm returns, we'll have company within a few days - at the latest."
Lyrian shrugs. He's not going to be the one carrying it in any case.
"Very well. Here it is."
Even as he tends to Rosalia, the life connection between Heldar and Javi continues to heal the halfling, until he is up to full strength.
Suddenly looking very worn out, the oracle smiles as Rosalia opens her eyes - "Welcome back. No need for thanks or 'owing' of any sort - this is what teams do" - his skin has taken a pale hue, almost deadlike.
Standing up, Heldar begins glowing for a moment, then a silent blast of divine energy sweeps the room, washing over himself and his companions, whatever wounds may be left visibly mending, as well as the oracle's complexion - then he conjures another healing spell to help him recover further.
"You look terrible," Rosalia says with her usual charm and tact, taking in Heldar's drained-looking state before he begins to heal himself.
She settles Rook onto her shoulder and assists with stripping the salvageable suits of ancient armor, listening to the discussion of resting with a small frown between her brows.
"I won't lie, I could use a rest. I feel that thing drained away bits of me..." she shudders and grimaces. "...but we just got here, too. I do still know some of my spells. I can press on if we're worried about others finding the site."
’You know me,” Javi says with a half-smile, ”I hate waiting when I don’t have to.” He tosses his little scimitar lightly up in the air, where it rotates once before he snatches it by the handle and then slides it home in his back sheath.
He points at Rosalia and Lyrian, ”Rest.” He makes a vague sweeping gesture that includes himself and mega-Shaggar, ”Continue.” He looks up at Heldar as he pulls out a coin. ”You wanna make the call? Or should we leave it up to Lady Luck … fickle as she is known to be?” The coin rests on his thumb, waiting to be flipped, and Javi seems happy with either method.
When no response is forthcoming, Javi flips the coin with a mischievous grin.
Javi glances at the coin. "Rest it is," he says with a pragmatic shrug.
"Good," Rosalia says with a sigh. "Are we resting in... here?" she says with a pointed glance at the thirty-odd corpses, human and otherwise, lying-and-standing around in various states of preservation, or of having just been hacked and smashed apart.
Javi flips the coin up to Shaggar. "Payment for that ride later," he says with a grin. Then he's instantly back to business, "I'd actually suggest we rest at the entrance." Javi says, wandering over and plucking a few choice weapons from the inanimate soldiers," Only one approach from inside the pyramid, and we can keep an eye for anyone approaching from the outside."
He skips back and hands one of the weapons up to one of the Pathfinders for inspection, "Your Society will no doubt want a look at these." He shrugs, "Or maybe our MIthril Scarab. Either way."
, Javi gets out one of his packets of powder as he makes his way to the unopened doors as well as the corridor to the mysterious shaft. At each location, he dusts the area just in front of the portal. Little enough that it could be easily overlooked as dust, but enough that tracks could be left should someone walk through it without taking care.
Javi is half-way out the door when Shaggar makes it known that he doesn't mean to leave the room. "Who am I to argue with a fourteen foot tall gnoll?"
Javi slips out the room to powder his nose... okay, to powder the floor. Close enough.
Rosalia makes a big face at sleeping in this room, surrounded by the standing dead. "...can't we at least drag the spider corpse out?" she huffs, and goes to do so herself, dragging pieces of the severed legs and torso out into the hallway with a shudder. (It's surprisingly light, anyway.)
She gives the standing, preserved corpses a long stink-eye before unrolling her bed in the point most equidistant from any corpses as she can manage. Rook crawls into her lap as Rosalia settles down to study and re-learn some of her spells, while munching on the trail rations which you are now all thoroughly sick of.
Heldar volunteers to take the bulk of the watches, with Shaggar to handle the two hours during which the healer must rest. The door is closed, the heavy stone moving reluctantly but inevitably under many mighty muscles. For a little while the Pathfinders-and-et-cetera murmur about their finds so far, the remains of the original Chelish mission, where their rivals might currently be, and how exactly is it that sand gets into everything you eat in the desert, no matter how well you wrap it?
Nobody is too creeped out by the sightless eye-sockets of two-dozen or so preserved warriors staring generally at you, it seems, except for Rosalia, who keeps glancing at them and then finally decides it's a point of pride that she not be bothered by them, at which point she pointedly ignores them.
With food eaten, water drunk, and bodies tired from the long ride through the night, the weathering of the storm, and the first few fights here, everyone curls up on their blankets and bedrolls.
Shaggar and Hatyah settle in for the first watch, the hyena curling up cozily next to Shaggar's side and resting her blunt, furry skull on his now-normal-sized thigh.
About ten minutes into his watch, Shaggar hears the faint noise of grinding and rumbling, as before. It increases, also as before, and Hatyah sits up with her ears perked.
Shaggar, are you sticking your head out to investigate, or just waiting it out?
Shaggar scoops up his weapons and bandolier, opens a small gnoll-sized gap in the door and sneaks out, trying to track the sound to its source. Holding his axe at the ready, the gnoll slides carefully along the corridor in the direction of the northern room where he suspects a lift will appear. Shaggar opens one of his bandolier pockets and double-checks that his empty potion bottle awaits - it's integral to his plan.
Javi's wasp-buzz-snore cuts off as he pops awake. When Shaggar's plan is quickly whispered, Javi's eyes light up, and he silently kips up onto his feet, flashing the gnoll a grin and thumbs-up in the darkness.
"I'll watch your back," he whispers as quietly as he can. " ... from a distance."
He pads after the gnoll, giving Hatyah his own pat on the way by.
Javi slips to the door and watches Shagggar sidle down the hall. Hey look, Javi, there's gnoll tracks in your powder now! Ha ha.
*coff*
Shaggar stealthily reaches the end of the hall with the pit/shaft and edges to near the pit. He can feel the vibrations in the green marble beneath his feet.
His suspicions are borne out; after another minute or so his eyes see something moving down in the pit, coming towards him. It appears to be a platform that fills the ten-by-ten space of the shaft, and is rising towards Shaggar's level at a slow but steady pace.
The gnoll silently observes the lift rising. Now if I were a bastard Osirion architect, I'd plant a symbol on that thing. He watches the lift rise until he can see if any creature is riding it or if there are any liquids on the surface.
Shaggar crouches down to avoid seeing any symbols on the lift face. As it reaches floor-level, he gently places his empty flask on the moving surface and lets it complete its ride.
There appear to be no creatures riding atop the smooth square of the lift, nor any signs of liquid.
Shaggar crouches down, sticks out his flask, and lets the lift carry it away from him. The lift continues to rise past him. The platform appears to be stone, a solid foot thick. It moves on and in the next second, Shaggar is staring at the 'device' that powers it:
There is a creature here, as large as Shaggar was earlier in the day, roughly in the shape of a man, save that where a human has a head, the head of this creature is the head of a snake. Though it moves with the fluidity of flesh, the creature appears to be made of stone. It looks somewhat familiar, and Shaggar remembers one of the auction items: a six-inch statuette, which the Arch Docent won.
The creature's back is to Shaggar. With one hand it holds the stone platform over its snake head; with the other, and with its legs, it climbs the far wall, moving along the rut Shaggar noticed earlier.
The gnoll unconsciously gulps and stays stock still, waiting for the creature and its burden to pass from sight. After he looks down the shaft, he follows the creature's progress upward. When it sounds as if the creature is coming back down the shaft, he slinks back out into the main corridor and conceals himself around the corner with just his eyes and the ears showing - in case the creature comes down the shaft facing a different direction. He looks carefully to see what happened to his vial.
As Shaggar watches the inexorable progress of the creature...
...he sees that, on the sole of the left foot of the stone man-beast.... there's a symbol. A circled symbol. He registers its presence and squeezes his eyes shut swiftly, but knows that it's too late. His eyes sting and his breath comes short for a moment, before it returns to normal.
The stone creature ascends and is shortly out of Shaggar's view of sixty feet. He waits several minutes, but hears no sound of the creature's return.